While sitting in a drive-thru, I had a spare moment to deal with a nagging hangnail. I snipped it off with clippers, accepted my medium-sized cup of Dunkin awesomeness, and realized I had a bloody fingertip.
I got home and dug through our bathroom cabinets. Not wanting to waste a whole bandage, I used that product where you brush a clear, strong-smelling liquid onto your wound that stings like hell. Once it dries, you've essentially applied a tiny layer of artificial skin to your actual skin. Since it dries clear, however, you can still see your red, pulsing wound. It made me wonder why they went with the see-through option.
It also made me realize science is already improving artificial skin.
Some brainiac in a lab coat is probably spraying a thick mist onto a human test subject's open sore right now. The dermi-bots are swarming the infected area, stitching skin at a cellular level…until something goes wrong with their programming. They've restored the subject's epidermis to factory conditions, but their sensors decide the acne on his back is a naturally occurring condition. Red, bumpy pustules appear on Patient Zero's wound and his bacne spreads, covering his entire body within minutes. He reaches frantically for the scientist, infecting him with replicating bots.
The military tries to seal the lab to stop the spread, but it's too late. Goddamned Linda at reception has impatiently touched the DoorDash guy's hand reaching for her cheese fries—because everyone in the secret mountain facility knows about goddamned Linda and her goddamned cheese fries intake—and off he goes in his Corolla to officially kick-start the Acne-pocalypse of 2023.